Painted In Different Colours
by xfirefly9x
Summary: A collection of ficlets based on the characters of Dollhouse.
1. Painted In Different Colours

_**A/N:** If you'd like to send me a request for another one-shot like this (for the next chapter), feel free to!!__ ;)_

_**Painted In Different Colours**__ (Echo's POV)_

Sometimes I wonder what missions I have been on. I wonder what I have seen and done, what skills I have acquired and what personalities I have taken on. I wonder what emotions I felt while I was completing the 'engagements' I have been on.

I know in my heart that whatever happened and whoever I was during those times, that it's not me. I am me. I am Echo, a blank canvass ready to be painted in different colours until the time that the picture is beautiful and complete. It's a beauty that will never last, of course; my missions may be done, but when they are I do not know of them.

I am painted over when my usefulness is abated to start fresh.

One thing about painting a picture over though is that it doesn't remove what was once beneath. It covers it, disguises it, but can never destroy it.

Somewhere beneath the layers of paint is my true identity and someday I will know it once more.

_fin._


	2. Nothing Special, Broken

_A/N: Tag to Epitaph One._

**_Nothing Special, Broken_**

It pains her to see him so broken. His words fall over each other with logic only he seems to understand. Fingers curl upon each other, as sharp as anything in their movements. It concerns her that she cannot seem to get a read on his expression. Just when she thinks she has him figured out, he does something to dash those thoughts.

He's different. He's not the brilliant young man she met who had the ability to agitate the pants off Dominic, her security back then, without breaking a (metaphoric, of course) sweat. He's nothing special now. He's broken.

He spends his time crouched in one of the Dolls' sleeping pods now, scribbling nonsensical things on the walls of it and sifting through pages of books too quickly to actually read anything. And every time she sees him now, she can't help but think it's her fault. It is her fault. She brought him into the Dollhouse. She hired him.

It was she who therefore broke him.

_fin._


	3. Innocence Away

_Claire/Topher._

**_Innocence Away_**

Her smile is sugary sweet and her eyes are huge and doe-like. When he looks at her he sees an innocent girl – an innocent who he soon will program to do bad things for people as important and influential as he is skilled at his job.

He has programmed people – Dolls – before, many times. He's changed them and enjoyed doing it. When a Doll awakens before him, newly imprinted like a piece of artwork it is satisfying and uplifting. Someone who didn't before exist now does.

He is a God walking among simple minded folk, all of them potential play toys or customers of his brilliance. He has power and control (usually) and there are few who can challenge him.

With a flick of her hair or a simple look in his direction though, she can shatter that illusion. She is different from the others and not because he's programmed her to be that way. She is special.

He's yet to understand why he finds her that way and why she is the most difficult for him to imprint. All he knows is the others don't make him feel guilty. She does every single time.

_fin._


	4. A Slave By Choice

_(Paul/Mellie.)  
_

_**A Slave By Choice**_

"I needed it," she told him. "It was a blessing."

"They stole years of your life from you. What part of that is a blessing?" Staring at her, he didn't even try to hide his disgust. The Dollhouse enslaved people and no contract, signed willingly or not, could ever make that an okay thing.

She raised her eyes to meet his. "I wanted it."

"You were a slave!"

"I needed to get out of my own head and this was a perfect way to do it. I appreciate your concern, Mr – what was your name again?"

He sighed. "Paul. Paul Ballard."

"Mr Ballard," she said with a nod. "But this is my life. It was my choice."

"Why would anyone choose to be a slave?" He cringed as soon as the words left his mouth, but didn't apologise or take back the question. Wringing his hands, eh took a step towards her.

She didn't move but surprise registered on her face – her eyes widened and her mouth fell open a little .There was a hint of pain in there too.

"Yeah," he said when the silence had dragged on a moment too long. "That's what I thought."

"No, I-"

"It's okay," he said. "I get it. You had to do what's best for you."

She nodded. "I did."

"And I have to do the same for me." Grimacing, he took out his cell phone and began dialling.

She watched him in confusion. "What's going on?"

He ignored her and talked into the phone. "Yeah," he said. "It's me. I'm done here. You're free to come get her." He hung up and tried not to look her in the eyes. "I'm sorry."

_fin._


	5. Talking To A Brick Wall

_**Talking To A Brick Wall**_

"Do you remember anything? Anything at all about me?" Sierra leans in close and tries to keep her voice as low as possible so as not to draw any unwanted attention.

Topher stands guard, leaning awkwardly up against the railing at the bottom of the staircase. He looks pained but determined and he flashes smiles at any of the staff who pass him by, for the most part earning himself confused looks and undisguised glares.

That's not what Sierra cares about though. He has helped her and has proven himself a worthy friend, if a little misguided (well, a lot really), but what matters now is Victor's answer.

Anthony, as she had known him back before.

Please answer me," she begs, when all he does in response is tilt his head to the side and stare at her. "Please. Do you remember me?"

Victor hesitates and then a smile breaks out on his face. He nods. "Sierra."

Sierra sighs and throws a glance back towards Topher. Topher raises his hands and mouths for her to hurry up.

"Look... Victor. I don't have much time. My name is Priya. Do you know me as Priya? Does any part of you at all know who I am?"

"You're Sierra," Victor says. "I like you. Are we playing a game?"

"No! No game. I-" She shrugs. "I can see now this isn't going to work."

Victor tilts his head again but to the other side.

A frown on her lips, Sierra leaves him. She stands in front of Topher and waits for him to acknowledge her. "Sierra," eh says. "Are you ready for your treatment?" He glances at Victor as he talks.

Sierra nods. "Why not? He doesn't remember me like this anyway."

_fin._


	6. Killjoy

_**Killjoy**_

"Don't you just love her?" Topher says. He holds the cat up for Adelle to better see it. It's kiwifruit coloured eyes stare blankly at her, whilst it makes tiny mewing noises that can only just be heard over the humming of the computers and other equipment in Topher's office.

Adelle, brown furrowed, studies the animal. "The real question is what is it doing here?"

"She's a stray," he says, scratching the cat behind its ears. "Aren't you, girl? Followed me right off the street."

"She – the cat – can't stay here."

"I need to pick a name out,' he adds, ignoring Adelle's words. Closing one eye and then opening it and repeating his actions with the other eye, he takes a break from petting the cat. "Maybe kitty cat. Or Kit Cat."

It is with a frown that Adelle shakes her head. "Topher. No. I'm sorry but we cannot have a cat crawling bout in the Dollhouse."

"Or Dew," Topher goes on. "Like DeWitt. Without the 'itt" part, obviously." The cat stops meowing for a moment to push its head against his hand. When he continues to pet it, it resumes purring. "I think she likes it!" He grins.

Adelle's frown deepens. She crosses her arms over her chest. "Topher!"

"Hmm?"

"You can't keep the cat. Not here."

"Killjoy."

With one pointed look, she has him cringing.

"Fine, fine! Dew can go home with Ivy. Ivy likes cats. I think." His face scrunches up slightly as he wonders about that and then he shrugs. "She can take Dew even if she doesn't like cats. She likes me and she likes her job-"

Adelle rolls her eyes and turns to leave. "Just get rid of it, okay?"

"Sure, sure." He watches her leave and scratches the cat under its chin. "Goodbye, Dew. I'll miss you."

_fin._


	7. All Along

_(Claire)_

_**All Along**_

She feels abandoned. Left for dead. Did any of them even try to find her after she left? If they did, they didn't look long enough or hard enough. She's still here, alone.

Then again, it is the Dollhouse. Maybe they've known where she is all along and figured she was no longer of use to them. She is just a doll who found out what she is. They don't need a doll that has gone all out nervous breakdown slash identity crisis.

Who could blame her for that though? They played with her brain and changed who she was. Her original identity was unknown to her and might now be forever lost. A part of her hopes it is lost, because she is another identity now, and who is she without that identity?

To go back to her original identity would be to destroy who she is now and that scares her. She doesn't want to admit it, but it's the truth. She's afraid for who she is now and part of her doesn't want her original personality back.

And so, she runs. She has no destination in mind; anywhere is fine if it's away from the Dollhouse. She runs and she searches for who she has become and who she should be.

_fin._


End file.
